Another Night in the Smithsonian
by malreina
Summary: When the tablet is stolen, Larry must return to the Smithsonian, where he meets new enemies and reunites with a certain pilot who's determined to have another adventure. Rated T just in case.
1. It's Always About the Tablet

**Welcome to my first story! :) My updates will probably be slow, so I apologize in advance. Enjoy!**

For the first time in several months, the Museum of Natural History was not open during night hours. Larry was unused to the stillness before sunset, though it had once been so familiar. No children and parents, no laughter, no cries of delight. Just his own footsteps, a hollow echo as he paced the lobby floor.

He checked his watch. Fifteen minutes to sunset. How could silence be so oppressive? Larry hummed, just to have sound in his ears, and straightened some papers on the visitors' desk.

The museum's late hours were a huge success over the summer. Every night, the museum was bustling and alive. Larry even began to recognize regulars. But once the school year started, visitors dwindled, until only a few dedicated patrons took their nightly tours. After a discussion with Mister McPhee, they decided it was best to limit night hours to Fridays and Saturdays, while keeping to normal hours the rest of the week.

The exhibits were in need of a break, Larry was certain. Yet the silence was no less unsettling after so many nights of light, sound, and life. Real people sharing in the magic of Akmenrah's tablet, even though they were unaware of what they witnessed. Another glance at his watch. Just a bit longer, and he wouldn't be alone. Larry wondered if it may seem boring without visitors.

He laughed to himself. Only _he_ could consider a night spent with living exhibits mundane.

Although... at times, he did feel a certain absence. He did his best to ignore it, but there were moments he'd turn to share a smile or a smirk with someone who wasn't there. A quick cough and a hand through his hair masked his embarrassment, and his embarrassment masked an ache that struck a bit deeper than Larry ever thought it could. He missed that spunk, that laugh, and that red hair in a flapper's bob. It bothered him more than he cared to admit, and so he didn't.

He hoped she'd made it back all right that night, so many months ago.

The sun dipped below the stained glass windows, and the shadows grew inside the main hall. A little shiver crawled up his back and made his neck itch. Larry quickly berated himself. He hadn't felt spooked in the museum since his first night as watchman.

Yet, in the overwhelming silence, Larry couldn't help but imagine noises. He reached over the desk to flip on the overnight lights and paused. Someone was behind him. A breath, a muffled step. His adrenaline flared, but as he turned to face the intruder, something struck his head, and his vision burst in a dizzying array of colors. Larry felt himself falling, and before he hit the floor, everything went black.

~*~

Voices. Larry awoke to voices and a blinding pain behind his eyes. He didn't need to move to feel the massive knot on the back of his head. It made its presence known with every throbbing, agonizing heartbeat. He tried to speak and managed only a groan, though this sent a ripple of excitement through the voices around him.

"Lawrence? Lawrence, my boy, open your eyes. Open your eyes if you can hear me."

A familiar voice. A small comfort. The request, however, was deceivingly simple. Larry cracked an eyelid open, and his vision swam in angry swarms of red and white. He snapped his eyes shut and groaned again.

"Lawrence, we need you. Please, open your eyes."

Even through the jackhammer pain in his head, Larry heard the urgency behind that voice. He forced his eyes open, blinking rapidly to clear his vision. As he struggled to sit up, helping hands rushed to aid him, and next Larry knew, he was propped against the visitors' desk, a paper cup of water in his hands.

Sacagawea and Teddy knelt before him, Jedediah and Octavius perched on the president's shoulder. Something in Larry's addled mind wanted to giggle and ask if Polly wanted a cracker, but even in his disoriented state, he knew that was a bad idea.

The other museum denizens hovered behind them, all eyes on Larry. Rexy's tail rattled as he wagged it.

"What," Larry croaked, "is going on?"

Teddy gently pushed the cup of water to Larry's mouth and made him drink. The glance shared between the president and Sacagawea did not escape Larry's notice.

"We have a situation, lad. Someone broke in."

"The jerk who hit me? Did you catch him?" Larry struggled to focus his eyes on his watch. How long had he been out?

"It's a quarter to nine," Teddy said. "The sun set nearly an hour ago. And no, the thieves got away."

"Thieves? How many were there?" Larry tried to push himself to his feet, but Sacagawea stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"There were two," she said.

"And they got the damn tablet, gigantor!" blurted Jedediah. "What the hell were you doing, visiting dreamland?"

Octavius cuffed the cowboy across the ear. "Don't blame the boy, Jedediah. He was attacked off his guard. Though I suppose a good soldier never lets his guard down..."

"Enough, both of you," said Teddy. "There is no one to blame but the thieves. This will get us nowhere, and time is short as it is. It's true what our western friend says, Lawrence. The tablet's been stolen."

"It's the only thing missing, Larry," Sacagawea added. "Nothing else has been disturbed."

Larry gaped. This was a lot to process even with a clear mind, and his headache wasn't helping. He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned back against the desk. "What happened?"

Every exhibit capable of speech launched into a frantic description of events. The cavemen grunted and pointed wildly, the Easter Island head mentioned something about dum dums, and Rexy shook himself so hard, his entire frame rattled dangerously. Larry clamped his hands over his ears and wished this wasn't happening.

"One at a time!" he shouted, much to the displeasure of his brain.

"They know what the tablet does."

Everyone looked up as Akmenrah entered the lobby, and Larry gingerly turned his head.

"One of them snatched it just moments after sunset," the young king continued. "He did not seem surprised when I climbed out of my sarcophagus and gave chase."

"Nor when we tried to stop them here in the lobby," said Teddy. "Rexy caught the fellow for a moment, but he broke free. His accomplice waited outside in a vehicle. I tried to follow them, but a horse is no match for an automobile."

Sacagawea laid her hand on his arm and smiled wanly. "And you look a bit out of place on the streets of New York."

"Fact o' the matter is, most of us didn't know the varmint was in here 'til it was too late," Jedediah said.

Larry unsteadily rose to his feet, passing a hand over his face with a sigh. "So no one knows who they were? Didn't anyone get a good look?"

There was an uncomfortable shuffling of feet, a few murmured replies. Everyone was in agreement that the museum was too dark, as Larry was knocked out before he could turn on the overnight lights. Somehow, this whole situation left Larry feeling like a complete dunce.

"So that's it, then?" he said. "_No one_ knows who they were?"

Rexy whimpered and none too gently pushed aside the other exhibits with his snout. He nudged Larry's shoulder and panted.

"For crying out loud, Rex, not now. This is no time for fetch!"

"No, Larry, look," said Sacagawea. "There's something in his teeth."

The tyrannosaurus yipped and tilted his head, revealing the offending object to Larry. Frowning, he reached into the maw of six-inch fangs and carefully extracted a piece of torn fabric.

"It looks like the sleeve from a jacket or something."

"Well, ain't that a big help. The lizard ripped the guy's shirt," Jedediah muttered.

Larry carefully examined the fabric and turned it over in his hands. His face fell. "Oh no..."

Several dozen pairs of eyes looked at him expectantly, and the night guard held up the fabric for all to see.

"Aw no. _Hell_ no, gigantor."

Stitched into the sleeve was an embroidered patch that read _Smithsonian Institution_.


	2. A Unique Predicament

**Thanks for the review! Don't worry, Amelia's my favorite, I wouldn't leave her out long. :)**

The giant Anubis statues bowed as they passed into Akmenrah's chamber. Dawn would arrive shortly, and Larry was acutely aware of how precious these last minutes were. The stone slab behind the young pharaoh's sarcophagus stood blank and empty, a glaring reminder that unless he retrieved the tablet, these were the final moments he would spend with his friends.

That made his decision all the more easy to make.

"I don't envy you, returning to a museum so large," Akmenrah said. He stood in front of his sarcophagus, eyeing it as if reluctant to climb in. "Even our little group here is difficult to handle, at times."

"I'll manage somehow. I promise. I'll get the tablet back."

"You're one of the few men whose word I trust completely, Larry Daley." Akmenrah rested his hands on the sarcophagus lid and glanced at his friend sideways. "Which makes me all the more shamed that I have not been entirely frank with you about my tablet's powers."

Larry's eyes narrowed on the young man. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, you already knew you could prevent the exhibits from awakening by turning the middle panel before sunset," Akmenrah said. "And my brother was kind enough to show you that it also acts as a key to the underworld gate."

"You mean it does something _else_? What could be worse than opening a door to the underworld?"

Larry regretted the words as soon as he said them, for there was always something worse. And he was usually the one to find it.

"Any of its powers are dangerous in the wrong hands," said the pharaoh. "Perhaps more so in ignorant hands. These other powers are activated by turning panels in certain orders, and if our thieves happen to unlock one of these combinations, they could cause a lot of trouble, whether intentionally or not."

Akmenrah pulled something out of his sarcophagus and handed it to Larry. It was a scroll, which the night guard gingerly unrolled and examined. There were tiny diagrams drawn upon it, delicate yet detailed, showing panel sequences that would activate the tablet's varied powers. Scrawled alongside each diagram was a note explaining the produced effect.

"I'd always intended to give that to you," Akmenrah said as Larry carefully tucked the scroll into his jacket. "In case something should happen to me. Now seemed like a good time."

Behind them, the hallway brightened with the grey light of an overcast dawn. The young pharaoh lifted himself into his sarcophagus and settled in as if for a good night's rest. Larry felt a sudden pang of fear in his stomach, a little wave of panic threatening to rise. What if he couldn't get the tablet back? What if the goodbyes he'd said earlier were truly goodbyes? It was difficult to imagine life without his living museum.

Larry forced these thoughts away, for he knew they would only distract and upset him. He smiled reassuringly at Akmenrah. "Have a good nap, huh? I'll be back before you know it."

"I don't doubt it," the young king said. "Isn't it funny, though? I'm supposed to be the guardian of the tablet, yet how can I guard it when I too am bound by its power?"

"That's what I'm here for, right?"

"Of course." Akmenrah grinned and pulled the sarcophagus lid into place. Sunlight crept down the hallway, and a stillness fell over the museum. The exhibits slept.

~*~

The airport was expectedly busy at mid-afternoon, and everyone was in a hurry. Larry passed people shouting into cell phones, muttering curses, and arguing with airport staff. Everyone had a problem to resolve, but Larry was certain no one had a problem quite like his.

He didn't feel very special for being so unique.

Hunched over in an uncomfortable chair, Larry studied Akmenrah's scroll while waiting for his plane to board. Of the new powers, one had a very descriptive annotation. Activating this panel sequence would, Akmenrah warned, allow the tablet bearer to control the beings it brought to life. Larry caught phrases such as "use caution" and "last resort" before his flight number was announced, and he gathered his meager luggage. He and several other travelers had begun to form a line before they realized the announcer was still talking.

"Our airlines apologize for the inconvenience. Again, we repeat, all flights into Washington D.C. and surrounding areas have been canceled due to snowstorm conditions until tomorrow morning. If you'd like a refund or ticket exchange, please make your way..."

As other passengers grumbled and wandered off, Larry stood slack-jawed, luggage still in hand. After a moment, he blinked and stopped a passing attendant. "Miss, I really need to get to Washington. _Really_," he insisted.

"I''m sorry, sir," she said, giving him a sympathetic smile that Larry didn't quite believe. "Conditions are too unsafe right now. You're completely welcome to exchange your ticket for a flight tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow morning," he muttered as the attendant walked away. "Right."

So much could happen before then. Whoever the thieves were, they would be in Washington well before sunset. Did they realize what they were getting into? Larry felt like a parent leaving a group of rowdy children alone for the night. Without him there, what could the Smithsonian denizens possibly stir up? _That_ was something he didn't want to consider.

Larry slumped back into a chair. Of course, not everyone at the Smithsonian was hellbent on world domination and causing general mayhem. Maybe some of the levelheaded exhibits would keep the others under control for one night. Yes, the cool and collected exhibits. The intelligent, quirky, charismatic-- Larry's thought processes slammed to a halt as he realized who he had in mind. His ears turned a little red. It was time to face it. Amelia would be there. What could he possibly say to her? Their last parting ended with a kiss and the knowledge that they would never meet again.

It made for an awkward greeting after saying goodbye like that.

~*~

Big, fluffy snowflakes tumbled from the sky, a curtain almost too thick to see through. The Smithsonian grounds were quiet, undisturbed as the sun set, hidden by clouds and snow. Snowstorm or not, there was no way to tell night from day deep within the federal archives.

Until she woke up.

For most of the population, it was an overlooked event that began each and every day, often an annoyance suffered with grumbling and yawns. Amelia was not so accustomed. It was unexpected, it was new, and it was wonderful. She felt air fill her lungs, her eyelids fluttered open, and her vision filled with color. She wriggled her fingers and toes, felt the flexibility and freedom of her muscles, the suppleness of her skin.

She did not just wake up. She lived.

It was cold, and Amelia was happy because it nipped at her nose and ears and made her shiver, and she hugged her jacket closer to her body, glad for the fur lining. The light was dim, but she could hear others awakening around her, saw crates and boxes shaking as the inhabitants climbed out or broke free. Packing paper rustled and plastic bags crunched as forgotten exhibits rid themselves of dust. Amelia's ears were filled with animal cries and bewildered laughter. The Smithsonian was awake.

She'd awoken only once before and returned to the archives believing she would never wake again. To be alive now was a gift, and Amelia hopped off her perch of boxes with a whoop of joy.

There was only one person who could bear this gift. A smile tugged at her rosy lips, until her whole face was alight with a grin so broad, those who saw her could not help but smile in return.

"Mister Daley, you rascal!" she laughed, and trotted off down the archive halls.


	3. A Bad Night for a Stroll

**Thank you, everyone, for your reviews and for following my story! And for your patience! :) The next chapter will be up sooner than this one, with any luck.**

The night was no longer young, and Amelia's moxie had run dry with her patience. The art gallery wasn't helping. A young boy in a painting threw a rock at her, and she stopped dead in her tracks. She promptly reached into the frame, watched with fascination as her hand developed brush strokes, and flicked the miniature child neatly in the forehead, bowling him over. She felt a tad guilty, but damned if she would let a painting best her.

Amelia plopped onto a bench, rested her chin in her hands, and blew out an exasperated breath. The night grew short, her patience wore thin, and Mister Daley was nowhere to be found. She'd searched the art gallery and the air and space museum, what she fondly considered their old haunts, and found nothing but memories. The air and space museum was not even awake, which could only mean the tablet (and hopefully Mister Daley) was still in the art gallery, or perhaps the archives. Perhaps he was searching for _her_ as well, and they kept missing each other by some cruel jest of fate.

And so Amelia sat in the gallery lobby, absently watching some sort of wireframe sculpture teeter across the room. Did the other exhibits even wonder why they were awake tonight? By golly, it didn't seem so. The archives underground were a fine mess. Amelia supposed she couldn't blame them for being thrilled to be alive, but it was all a bit raucous for her tastes. The gallery was mildly quieter, she guessed because half the exhibits couldn't talk. Those that could simply shook their heads when she asked if they'd seen a dark-haired man with a gold tablet.

"Larry, where are you?" she sighed.

A noise caught her attention, a muffled yelp and scuffle behind the visitors' desk in the corner. Amelia frowned and strode toward the desk, her boots clicking smartly on the tile floor. Peeking over the edge, she discovered two young men huddled beneath, arguing in harsh whispers. Amelia quirked an eyebrow and cleared her throat, and the boys looked up, their eyes suddenly wide.

"Get away, lady! We're armed!"

"We are totally armed!"

"With what, precisely?" Amelia scoffed. "Certainly not a quick wit."

Sidestepping the desk, Amelia noticed the boys wore security uniforms, and for a moment, she felt a little pity. It must be unsettling to have the museum erupt with life around you. Then she saw a glint of gold in one boy's jacket, and the next instant, she had them by the ears and scrambling to their feet. The golden object slipped and clattered to the floor, its surface covered with familiar hieroglyphs.

"Where did you ragamuffins get that tablet?"

The boys looked at one another, then back to Amelia. They gaped at her.

"Good grief, the pair of you look like a couple of stunned trout." She released their ears, and they backed away until they were pressed against the desk. Amelia rolled her eyes and picked up the tablet, waving it at them. "Come on, fellas, where'd you get it?"

One of the boys, heavyset with a head of curly hair, pointed at Amelia and mumbled. "I know you. I've seen you. You were on the tapes!" He nudged his companion and whispered, "Maybe she can help?"

"How do we know she's not one of _them_?"

"Does she _look_ like one of them?"

"Well, no. But neither did that other chick!"

They both turned back to Amelia and scrutinized her.

The pilot raised her eyebrows. "You still haven't answered my question. What the devil is going on here? Where is Mister Daley?"

"Daley!" the heavyset boy shouted. "The night guard! Look, we didn't want any trouble, okay? We just wanted to borrow it."

The other boy groaned and wiped a hand over his face. "Yes, just tell her everything. That's great."

"Jeremy, she was with him! She was with Daley in the tapes, she's got to know what to do." Turning back to Amelia, he proffered his hand, and when she gave him a wary look, he grabbed her hand and shook it anyways. "I'm Brundon. That's Jeremy. We... well, we kinda got ahold of the security footage from Daley's visit earlier this year."

"_I_ got ahold of it," Jeremy spoke up. He smirked and inspected his fingernails casually. "You should probably thank me, lady. I threw together some fake tapes to throw the cops off when they found the museums completely trashed that morning."

"Pardon me for not throwing a party."

A pin stuck in his inflated ego, Jeremy glared at her. "Whatever. The point is, we figured it was that tablet bringing everything to life. Do you know how boring it is walking up and down dark hallways all night? We thought we'd... liven things up around here."

Brundon laughed at the pun, but seeing Amelia's disapproving look, the laughter withered on his lips. "We, um. We did some research, and then kind of stole it. From New York."

"You _stole_ the tablet?" Amelia advanced on them, and the boys scrambled around the desk. She slammed her hands down. "What was your plan after that? What happens if the museum's in another disastrous disarray come morning?"

"We only wanted to borrow it for a couple nights!" Jeremy insisted. "We'll take it back in the morning, I swear, lady. You museum people are freakin' crazy!"

"I don't appreciate would-be robbers making assumptions about my sanity," she said. "And the name is Amelia. Lay off the 'lady' business, would you?"

"Ignore him, he didn't really mean you anyways," said Brundon. "There are some... people. Following us. I think they want the tablet."

"What gives you that idea?"

"Well, they said they'd fill us up with daylight if we didn't hand it over. I bet that's not as happy as it sounds."

Amelia's face fell. "Oh no. What did these fellas look like?"

"Really old fashioned? Kinda talked like you," Jeremy said, then added as an afterthought, "No offense."

"And the guy in charge was, like, black and white. You know, like an old photograph?" Brundon said.

"Oh for the love of Pete." Amelia settled into the desk chair and crossed her arms in a huff. "You boys have gotten yourselves into a bigger pickle than you realize."


	4. Public Enemies

**Thanks again for the reviews! :D Here's the next chapter, hope you enjoy!**

Amelia stalked down the corridors like a leopard with a purpose, her felonious friends in tow. Mister Daley wasn't coming. That thought nibbled at the edges of her mind, though she tried to force it away. There were bigger problems at hand, and as long as she kept her mind on those, she could ignore the disappointment that settled like lead in her stomach.

Cockamamy as their caper was, Amelia didn't want to see Brundon and Jeremy caught in the middle of some glorified territorial battle amongst the museum residents. The tablet's presence assured precisely that, and she knew what had to be done. The boys would take their automobile straight to New York this very night and return the tablet to its rightful owner, while she would remain at the Smithsonian and sort out whatever mess had already been wrought.

Certain exhibits would be rather peeved to learn of the tablet's departure. She suspected she'd have to deal with them as well. _What a dandy way to spend my last few hours_, she thought bitterly.

"Parking lot's down the next hall and out the door," Jeremy said.

Until she heard his voice, Amelia hadn't noticed how quiet the hallways had become. Too quiet. She glanced about, suddenly wary. "Something's not jiving here," she murmured.

As they rounded the corner and saw the double-doors and glowing EXIT sign, so too did figures emerge from the shadows to block their path. Amelia stumbled to a halt, the boys nearly colliding with her, and she clutched the tablet a little closer to her chest. The men were dressed in neatly pressed pinstripe suits and wore fedora hats. Amelia's eyes, however, were drawn to the tommy guns they carried in their arms.

The pilot and her companions took several uneasy steps backwards as three people stepped forward from the gang of thugs. Mister Capone was unmistakable, as was the leer on his face, rendered more chilling by his stark black-and-white appearance. His henchmen, a young man and woman, were somehow familiar, but Amelia couldn't place why.

"Miss Earhart! Well, ain't it a pleasure to see you again," he said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You planning on going somewhere?"

Amelia drew herself up and looked down her nose at the mob boss. "I'm quite content to stay here, thank you, but it'd be positively gentlemanly of you to let my friends be on their way."

"Oh, sure, sure! The kids are free to go, ain't that right, boys?" Capone grinned broadly, stepping aside and gesturing toward the exit, while his cronies made sounds of agreement. Jeremy and Brundon took a hesitant step forward, and suddenly every firearm was leveled on them. Capone no longer smiled. "First, though, you can hand over that tablet."

Amelia regarded him for a moment, then smiled benignly and approached Capone until the barrel of his gun bumped her chest. The man towered over her, yet she flashed her smile and fluttered those baby-blues as if he were her suitor. "Now, level with me here, ace. We both know that won't happen. So why don't you let these fellas go, and we can settle this between the two of us?"

"You got nerve for a dame, but I don't think you understand. My boys here can fill these pip-squeaks so fulla lead, their own mothers won't know 'em from swiss cheese." Capone nodded at the tablet still held tightly in her arms. "That's their only ticket outta here that ain't a casket, sugar."

Amelia scowled at him. She threw a glance over her shoulder at the boys, who looked increasingly frightened, then said quietly, "You promise they can leave, no funny business?"

"On my honor."

"What little you have," she muttered and pressed the tablet into his waiting arms.

Capone bared his teeth in a grin as he waved towards the door with his gun, and his gang parted to allow the boys through. Amelia gave them a quick nod as if to say everything would be all right. Brundon and Jeremy approached the exit with the knowledge that any sudden move could trigger a round of target practice. As they pushed open the door, Amelia broke the silence.

"I wouldn't return until sunrise, if I were you."

Jeremy wasted no time hightailing it out the door, but Brundon hesitated, offering Amelia an apologetic yet grateful look. Then he bolted after his friend, leaving the pilot alone with a gang of outlaws.

Amelia did her best to look calm and brave, though she didn't feel it. What kind of power had she just handed over to this brutal gangster? Pushing that thought aside, she stuck her hands on her hips and winked at Capone. "Well, if that's all cleared up, I suppose I'll just scram."

"Aw, now you didn't think we'd let you wander about all unimpeded, did you, doll?" asked Capone.

Several mobsters closed in to hold her still while they tied up her hands with rope, and Amelia cried out indignantly. "Hey! You said no funny business!"

"So I did, in regards to your boy-toys. You'll notice I kept my word there, yeah?" He drew close and tapped her chin. "Your well-being, on the other hand, was not specified."

Amelia gritted her teeth and strained against her captors. "You flea-bitten son of a--"

"Oh, come off it, you musta realized you'd be useful to me. Don't think I forgot you were pretty chummy with that Daley guy." Capone leaned in close enough that Amelia could smell his breath, an acrid mix of tobacco and gin. She wrinkled her nose. "I figure he'll come after his tablet sooner or later, and you're my leverage, dollface."

Amelia retorted with a bold smile. "You're absolutely correct, Mister Capone, he _will_ come. The question is, will he kick your fanny before or after rescuing me?"

Capone barked a short laugh. "See, I figured he'd go after the dame in distress, so I hired me a couple of bodyguards, you might say. Only, they ain't guarding you, so much as blowing away any schmuck who comes near you." The mob boss beckoned the young man and woman who'd been keeping near his side. "Miss Earhart, I'd like you to meet Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow. Maybe you've all heard of each other?"

The criminal couple smiled down at her like a pair of cats, and Amelia groaned.

"Mister Daley, I hope you're prepared for this..."


	5. In a Bind

**Thanks again for your patience and reviews! Hopefully this slightly longer chapter makes up for it. :)**

The Smithsonian grounds were empty. The wintery weather kept most visitors away during the day. Larry added this to his list of things to be happy about. At the moment, it was a very short list. He surveyed the museum property. The Washington Monument stood proudly in the distance, illuminated against the rapidly darkening sky, a gentle glow that reflected off the snow. Flurries still fell, ridding the landscape of footprints and other blemishes. It was a beautiful scene, Larry knew, but his attention was elsewhere.

Dusting snowflakes from his jacket, he wondered how the museum fared last night. He didn't know what to expect. There were no visible causes for concern, from the outside looking in. No smashed windows or exhibits running wild. Larry had a sudden vision of Napoleon making snow angels on the lawn, and he snorted. Was it possible, _conceivable_, the exhibits had behaved themselves last night? He didn't dare consider it. It was like opening a cage of excitable ferrets and hoping for the best.

Sunset had come and gone, as had any personnel, with any luck. There were lights on in the museum buildings, but Larry wasn't sure if it was simply overnight lighting to deter thieves or the exhibits throwing parties. Though, come to think of it, walking statues and talking paintings would probably deter thieves too. _Most thieves_, he thought sulkily.

Larry shivered, hands stuffed in his pockets, and tried to decide where to begin, when two figures emerged from the Natural History Museum. He ducked into the shadows to keep out of sight. The figures paused to speak to someone silhouetted in the doorway, then they headed in the direction of the art gallery, while the third person retreated back into the history museum.

Once the figures were out of sight, Larry made a break for the history museum, snow crunching beneath his feet as he jogged. His breath puffed in little clouds by the time he reached the door, and he peeked inside. It seemed quiet. Nothing moved. Hesitantly, he pushed open the door and stepped in.

Somewhere, from a distance, he heard animal calls. Strange and unfamiliar, they unnerved him. Larry had done some research earlier and learned there was a hall of mammals and a hall of dinosaurs. The thought that these creatures were probably now stalking the hallways did nothing to ease him.

"Right, nothing to be afraid of," he whispered, resting his hand on the flashlight he'd remembered to stick in his belt. "Just some wild animals, confused and disoriented and wondering why the hell they're in a museum. Nothing at _all_ to be afraid of."

Larry crept through the rotunda, tense and alert. A raised platform in the center of the room was covered with fake grasses and mud. He frowned and inspected it closer. There were footprints in the mud. Big footprints. Whatever called the platform home had clearly wandered off, and he wasn't about to go looking for it.

Suddenly, he heard a human voice amidst the animal cries. It was faint, an echo, making it impossible to discern its source. There was a shout or two, and then nothing. Larry hoped no one was being eaten alive by hungry beasts, because he really didn't have a solution to that.

Heaving a sigh, Larry steeled his nerves and began his exploration of the museum, unsure of what he may find.

~*~

"Was it really necessary to keep her here, of all places?"

Bonnie looked up from filing her nails. Seated on an elevated dais, she swung her legs while several lion cubs played rough-and-tumble beneath her feet. She smiled. "Oh, I don't know. I think it's a lark."

"Yeah? Wait til your pets there get hungry," Clyde muttered. He paced the floor, nervously twirling a pistol in his hand. The hall of mammals was teeming with creatures. Most paid the humans no attention, besides a curious sniff, but Clyde snapped his head around at every movement. "Like a damn circus in here."

"Well, the boss thought it was a good idea. Makes us harder to get to, especially if this Daley fellow shows up."

Clyde snorted and flopped onto a bench near Bonnie. "What're we gonna do, have your kittens bite his ankles?"

"Silly, that's what you're packing heat for," she teased, sticking her tongue out at him.

Tied up and completely ignored, Amelia rolled her eyes, shifting uncomfortably on her bench. The rope dug into her wrists, and her legs were falling asleep. Being the third wheel to this bicycle had its advantages, though. With so little attention paid to her, Amelia was free to scrutinize her surroundings for a means of escape. There were three exits from this room, if she dared make a break for it. The animals didn't bother her so much as Clyde. He seemed the trigger-happy sort.

The question was, how far would she get and where could she go? She couldn't play cat-and-mouse forever. Eventually, the cat tires of the game and kills the mouse. Amelia wasn't eager to reach that point. And with her hands tied, she was literally in a bind until she could get the rope off. Short on options, she mentally shrugged and whistled sharply to get Bonnie and Clyde's attention.

"Sorry to interrupt you lovebirds, but would it be a bother to loosen this rope? It's quite a pain." Amelia offered her most friendly, innocent smile and hoped she looked sincere.

Clyde laughed. "How dense do you think we are? You're lucky Capone wants you alive, else I'd've stuck you with the bears and wolves."

"Well, that's a crummy way to treat a lady."

"_Ladies_ don't wear pants."

Amelia's face flushed with anger, but before she could spit out a retort, Bonnie came to her aid. "Oh, don't be such a pill, Clyde. Surely it's impractical to fly a plane in a dress."

"It's impractical for a _woman_ to fly a _plane_."

"You might also say it's impractical for a woman to accompany her beau on his crime sprees, but you don't seem unhappy to have me about."

Clyde stared her down for a long moment, then sighed. "Girl like you's too clever to leave at home."

Bonnie smiled smugly and nodded to Amelia, giving her a wink. Amelia returned the smile, her mind flooding with ideas. Perhaps she could find a friend in this woman.

While Clyde was distracted, a giraffe ambled over and nibbled on the brim of his fedora. Amelia bit her lip to hold in her laughter as the giraffe lifted the hat from his head and chewed unhurriedly. Clyde jerked around and yelled, snatched the hat from the giraffe's teeth, and angrily replaced it on his head.

"That's it, this place is grating on my nerves," Clyde said. He jumped to his feet. "I'm going on patrol before I shoot something. Holler if there's trouble."

Clyde disappeared into another room, and Bonnie returned to filing her nails. Amelia tensed. Now was her chance to get out of here, hands tied or not. Did Bonnie have a gun as well? Unsure, she scoured the room for quickest escape route.

"Dear, do you really think I hadn't noticed your eyes bouncing about in your skull like a couple of marbles?" Bonnie suddenly said, not even looking up from her nails. "I swear, I've seen rabid dogs less fidgety than you."

"You've been watching me?"

"Well, of course. I notice the little things, unlike Clyde. He shoots first and asks questions later."

"There seems to be a tiny flaw in that plan."

"Indeed. Corpses aren't very talkative." Bonnie set down her nail file and gave Amelia her full attention. "On to my point. If you'd attempted to run, Clyde would've shot you in the back without a second thought. That lovely body of yours would be riddled full of holes, and then where would you be?"

"Dead, I suppose."

"Precisely. Now, Capone wants you kept captive in order to barter with this Larry Daley fellow, but we don't honestly know if he's even coming." Bonnie reached down and scooped up a lion cub, cradling it in her lap. "Nothing against you personally, dear, but I don't want to spend every night as your jailer. I'll be bored to death, and Clyde may just shoot you anyway once he gets too antsy."

"That's positively ducky," Amelia said. "I take it you've schemed something up?"

Bonnie smiled and scratched behind the lion cub's ears. "Something that will keep things a little more interesting for all of us."

Setting the lion aside, the young woman pulled a pocket knife out of her shoe and knelt in front of Amelia. Flipping out the blade, she sliced the rope binding the pilot's wrists and tossed it away. Bonnie sat next to Amelia on the bench, crossed her legs, and raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her. "Well, Miss Earhart. The next move is yours."

Amelia gave her a suspicious look. "I'm free to go?"

"You can stay, if you enjoy my company so much."

"Despite your charm, I think it'll be more interesting, as you say, if I leave." Amelia stood and stretched her legs, wincing as feeling returned to them. She smiled at Bonnie. "Thank you. You're not such a bad egg after all."

"Why are you thanking me, darling? I only said I wanted to make things more interesting." Bonnie stood and crossed her arms. "You've got ten seconds before I scream."

Amelia blanched. "_Excuse_ me?"

"I'd start running now. My Clyde is a very good shot."

"Why you deceitful little _shrew_, if I ever--"

"I didn't deceive you, dear, I simply withheld half the truth." Bonnie smiled warmly. "Time's up, Miss Earhart."

Amelia bolted for the nearest door, and the young woman unleashed a shriek that panicked most of the animals. The pilot's path was suddenly an obstacle course of terrified beasts, and Amelia yelped as she stumbled over a family of jackrabbits. A zebra whinnied and sideswiped her as she dodged out of the way and made a break for the door. The predators, instincts spurred by the sight of fleeing prey, were on the move, and Amelia dashed into the next room just as a tiger leapt onto a mountain goat behind her. Muffled by the din, she heard Clyde's murderous shouting. Unwilling to find out just how well he aimed a gun, Amelia flat-out sprinted down the corridor and around the corner.

Where she narrowly avoided slamming into Larry.

The pair gaped at each other for a moment.

"_Amelia_?!"

"No time, Mister Daley!" she cried breathlessly. "Angry criminals! Stampeding animals!"

A few shots rang out behind them, and they instinctively ducked. Creatures began to filter into the hallway, galloping and scampering out of the chaotic hall of mammals. Amongst them, she caught a glimpse of Clyde. Amelia grabbed Larry's hand and tugged him along after her.

"Reunions later, ace! Right now, I'm on the lam!"


	6. A Couple of Couples

**Hope you all had a great Christmas! :D Sorry for the lateness of this chapter. Hopefully with the holidays over, life won't be quite as hectic, haha. Going to try for an update per week and see how that goes!  
**_____________________________________________________________

Amelia yanked Larry into a storage closet and left the door open just a crack, enough space to peek as a herd of creatures rumbled past. Clyde followed behind them, Bonnie close at his heels, and Amelia ducked back into the closet to avoid detection. Once their footsteps receded, she braved another peek and, finding the coast clear, stepped out into the hallway.

Larry followed and shot her a bewildered look. "What have I just walked into?"

Amelia turned around and slapped him.

"_Ow_, hey! What the--"

"Do I mean so little to you, Mister Daley?" she demanded. "How long has it been? Months? _Years_?"

"Uh... months," he admitted quietly, rubbing his face.

Amelia snorted and turned away so Larry wouldn't see her eyes welling up. She hated crying, and she hated that this was her first reaction to his arrival. It wasn't how she'd imagined. She hadn't even dwelt on these thoughts, but seeing him now, so suddenly...

"You know, when I left you, I thought perhaps you'd come back for me someday," she said. "So when I woke up last night, I thought it was you."

"Amelia, I..."

"Imagine my surprise when I found two young hooligans with a penchant for thievery."

"Amelia." Larry moved closer to her and reached out as if to touch her arm, then hesitated and pulled his hand away. "I should've come back sooner."

She turned to face him, dry-eyed, though she couldn't keep the quaver from her voice. "Is this what it took to bring you back? Was I not enough?"

"No! That's not... I was scared, all right? I still am." He rubbed his temples and sighed. "You're a _mannequin_, Amelia. Don't glare at me like that, you must have thought about this. What could we possibly have together?"

"I can think of a few things, ace." She winked.

"Okay, that... that is not entirely appropriate."

Amelia smiled as his face turned pink. "Perhaps we should discuss this later. We do have more immediate problems at hand."

"Right, yeah, good idea."

The two of them looked at each other for a long moment and finally broke into grins.

"I missed you," said Larry.

"I was hoping you'd say that," Amelia replied, and this time she was not ashamed of her teary eyes.

~*~

Clyde bounded down the museum stairs two at a time, Bonnie gracefully following at a more relaxed pace. Clyde was agitated, and Bonnie knew better than to stand in front of him at a time like this. Who knew when his trigger finger would slip?

As her boyfriend stomped through the snow, Bonnie daintily picked her way along his footsteps, sighing when snow wetted the hem of her dress. "Clyde, it's terribly cold out here. Must we really speak with Mister Capone this very instant?"

He reeled on her, and Bonnie flinched for the briefest moment as he gesticulated with his pistol. "What, you think he'll be happier if we futz around for a few hours, trying to find her by ourselves? She could be anywhere!"

"Not so. Calm yourself for a moment, love, and look at the snow."

"Are you _daft_, Bon? Now is not the time for--"

"See, if you would simply do as I say, you'd notice our own footprints are the freshest," she said. "Miss Earhart is still in the building, else we'd see her tracks out here."

Clyde was silent, looking back and forth between Bonnie and the museum building. Bonnie crossed her arms.

"What is the worst she could do, besides? Let's have a little fun."

"A little fun with what?" said a voice behind them, and the couple jumped.

They turned to face Capone and a group of his goons, stony-faced and almost as icy as the snow that clung to their suits. The mob boss frowned and prodded Clyde in the arm with his tommy-gun. "Where's Earhart? Why the hell are you out here?"

Bonnie and Clyde looked at each other, and for the first time, Bonnie regretted this little game of hide-and-seek with Amelia. She cleared her throat and nodded politely to the gangsters, quite aware of the guns they held. "Mister Capone, that woman's more wily than we thought. She... escaped." She threw a glance at Clyde and added, "We were just coming to find you."

Capone's knuckles whitened as his grip tightened on his gun. He shoved the muzzle into Clyde's chest, pushing the young man back a step. "I suggest you get back in there and _find_ her."

Clyde flexed his free hand and Bonnie saw his trigger finger twitching. She softly laid a hand on his arm and gave Capone her most doe-eyed look. "We're so sorry, sir. We'll track her down and truss her up like a Christmas goose, you can bet on it."

"And you can bet I'll do the same to you two if Daley finds her first."

At this, Bonnie cringed. She hadn't expected the night guard to actually show up. "He's here? Already?"

"My scouts saw him snooping around the grounds. If we've got Earhart, we've got something to hold over his head, understand? If they find each other..."

Capone dusted snow off his suit and straightened his hat.

"I ain't winding up like that sissy pharaoh, shall we say?"

"We'll get her, boss. Leave it to us," Clyde said.

"See that you do. You already muddied it up once."

As she and Clyde trudged back to the museum, shivering and quiet, Bonnie worried that her amusing game had just become far more deadly.

~*~

"Well, what's the story, morning glory? How do we get out of this mess?"

"I'm _thinking_."

Amelia kept close to Larry's side as they cautiously made their way towards the exit, avoiding rampant animals all the while. She wanted to link arms with him, but having told him that she handed the tablet over to Capone in order to save the lives of the boys who clubbed him over the head and stole the tablet to begin with...

Well, Mister Daley was a little on edge after that.

"If I'd known they conked your noodle earlier, I might have been less eager to let them out the door," she said. "Does that make you feel any better?"

"Slightly."

"Well, there's nothing for it now. Capone's got the tablet, and that's that. There's no use dwelling on what we can't change, unless the tablet can rewind time."

"God, I really hope it can't."

Amelia stopped and furrowed her brow. "You mean you don't know?"

"Uh, that's the thing. Akmenrah decided to enlighten me a little." Larry pulled Amelia off to the side as an elephant lumbered past. He dug a slip of paper out of his pocket and handed it to her. "Apparently it's a box of magic tricks in convenient tablet form."

Amelia scanned the paper and quirked her eyebrow. "Mister Daley, this is rather disconcerting. This one says you can _control_ what the tablet brings to life. If Capone figures that out, our gooses are cooked."

"That's why we need to find him, and soon." Larry took the paper from her and tucked it back into his jacket. "Maybe we can reason with him."

"He's a mobster, Mister Daley, and a powerful one at that. What on earth could you offer him?"

Larry gave her a sidelong glance as they continued down the corridor. "I don't know. Maybe he could use his own personal pilot."

"You wouldn't _dare_!"

He smirked and squeezed her arm. "You're right, I wouldn't."

Amelia eyed his hand on her arm, and a smile twitched at her lips. Just as she was about to suggest they hold hands, the crack of a pistol shattered the calm, the bullet ricocheting off the wall and sending chips of paint and plaster spraying into the air. Larry shielded Amelia, and the pair stared down the hallway. Bonnie and Clyde blocked their exit, guns at the ready.

"I wouldn't move a muscle, were I you," Bonnie said as Clyde trained his pistol on them.

"I thought you said he had good aim," Amelia spat back. "He almost managed to miss the _wall_."

"Amelia, please don't taunt the gangsters," Larry mumbled under his breath.

Clyde fired his gun again, the bullet zipping between their heads, a hair's breadth from their ears. Amelia's eyes went wide. "Perhaps I misjudged."

"Give us the dame, and you're free to get the hell off our property, Daley," Clyde said.

Amelia rolled her eyes, and Larry snorted. "Your property? Since when do you get to run around staking territory claims?"

"Since your filly there so graciously gave us your tablet, you two-bit joe."

Larry shot Amelia an annoyed glance. She gave him an apologetic look and mouthed _Sorry!_

"There's a hard way and an easy way, Daley. Your choice." Clyde cocked his pistol. "I won't miss this time."

"You know, I've always enjoyed a challenge," Amelia said. She grinned at Bonnie and Clyde and grabbed Larry's arm, making up his mind for him. She dove into the nearest doorway, dragging her night guard along with her. She slammed the door shut behind them just as a bullet splintered the wood.

"He may have good aim, but he's certainly not the quickest draw in the west, is he?" she giggled.

"Uh, Amelia..."

"What, don't you like my jokes? They aren't _that_ bad."

"No, Amelia, we've got company."

Amelia slowly turned around and followed Larry's eyes upward, where they narrowed on a bony face. Two empty eye sockets glared at them. The creature lowered its head and sniffed them, and the couple backed away from the mouth jam-packed with fossilized teeth.

"I think," Larry whispered, "we found the hall of dinosaurs."


	7. On the Trail

**A sort of short chapter, but hopefully worth it! I'm struggling as I write because I have an ending in mind, as well as a few events I want to take place before then. But otherwise, stuff is just sort of popping out of my head as I write, haha. Oh well, I guess that's the writing process for you. Enjoy! 3  
**__________________________________________________________________

Amelia and Larry were trapped between a rock and a hard place, or more accurately, between gun-toting gangsters and the colossal frame of a Tyrannosaurus rex. Their backs to the door, they felt the wood shake as Clyde tried to bust through with his shoulder. The T-rex was mere inches from their comparably tiny bodies, and Amelia's heart pounded. The prehistoric terror bellowed in their faces, and the couple squeezed their eyes shut at the sound. Even Clyde ceased bashing the door and swore.

"On the count of three," Larry mumbled, trying to move as little as possible, "I want you to dive with me to the right."

"Dive, got it," she said.

"One..."

The T-rex reared its head.

"Two..."

Clyde resumed bashing the door.

"Three!"

Larry and Amelia dove out of the way just as the dinosaur slammed into the door, its head bursting through the wood. As they scrambled for cover, they heard Bonnie scream and Clyde fire his gun. The T-rex twisted and rattled in a fury, its head trapped in the broken door. For now.

Larry breathed a sigh of relief, and Amelia huffed and straightened her scarf.

"What an unfriendly beast," she said.

"That'll buy us some time, at least," Larry replied. "If we can just get out of-- Amelia! Get away from that thing!"

The pilot stroked the horn of a triceratops that leaned over the ledge to investigate them. She giggled and patted its snout. "What? This one's rather cute, don't you think?"

Larry raised an eyebrow at the giant skull snuffling Amelia's hair. As she petted its neck-frill, he could swear it was actually purring. "Only you would find that cute."

"Sorry, fella, I'd scratch behind your ears, only I don't know where your ears are." She pecked its snout and turned back to Larry as the triceratops trundled off. "Well, Mister Daley, we seem to be in a jam."

"When are we not?" Larry risked a peek at the door. The T-rex struggled to free itself, wood splintering around its neck. "We don't have much time. Is there another exit?"

"On the other side of the hall. I suggest we move quickly and cautiously, Mister Daley, or some dinosaur may be scraping us off its foot."

Crouching low to the ground and staying close to the exhibit platform bases, the pair snuck through the middle of a living prehistoric landscape. All that was missing were a few trees, and perhaps some flesh for the skeletal giants whose feet they ardently avoided.

"Now I know what the first mammals felt like," Larry muttered.

"Small and terrified?"

"Like walking appetizers."

"Bad jokes are my territory, ace." As they neared the door, she frowned and grabbed Larry's arm to hold him back. "Wait. Did you notice? Bonnie and Clyde stopped yelling."

Larry listened. The only sounds were the click-clack of ancient bones on the marble floor, the occasional dinosaur cry, and the rattling of the t-rex as it battled with the door. The gangster couple was not to be heard. Larry glanced at Amelia.

"You don't think they..."

Amelia suddenly gasped and dragged the night guard behind a line of fake shrubs. Ever so carefully, she peered through the leaves and indicated to Larry what she'd seen. Bonnie and Clyde once again blocked their exit, though they were reluctant to actually set foot in the hall. They surveyed the room with a mixture of wonder and fear, and fear seemed to win out.

"I don't see them," Bonnie hissed.

"They can't have left, we woulda crossed paths in the hallway," Clyde replied. "You don't suppose one of these things... ate them, do you?"

"They're skeletons. How on earth does a skeleton eat anything?"

"I dunno, but they've got teeth, haven't they? Big, sharp teeth." To this, Bonnie could not disagree, and Clyde continued, as if convincing himself as much as his girl. "They couldn't have made it out of this place alive. Absolutely not."

"We need to make a decision, then. The boss and the others are waiting, and if we don't finish up here, they'll leave without us. What do we tell him?"

Clyde grunted in annoyance and spit on the floor. "We tell him they're dead. Ripped apart and eaten. It's not like he'll want to spend time searching this joint any more than we do. C'mon, let's bust outta here."

As their enemies departed, Larry laughed. "Well, his stupidity is our luck."

Amelia stared at the door, concern darkening her usually bright eyes. "I don't like this," she murmured.

"Are you kidding? If they think we're out of the picture, we've got the upper hand!"

"No, not that. Bonnie said Capone and his cronies were leaving." Amelia gave him a pointed look. "Mister Daley, where could a gaggle of gangsters possibly be going?"

Larry blinked at her for a moment, then his eyes widened in realization. "They wouldn't actually leave the museum grounds, would they? I mean, _would_ they?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure you can imagine their shenanigans if they do."

"We need to follow them! If they start roaming the city..."

"No good will come of it," Amelia said.

~*~

Amelia's face lit up as they stepped outside into the cold, crisp air. For a moment, she completely forgot the urgency of their situation in the face of the equalizer of adults and children alike.

"Snow!" she cried happily and scooped up a double handful, packing it tight.

"Didn't you see it when Capone moved you into the history museum?" asked Larry. Though the gangsters were nowhere in sight, the couple easily followed the trail of footprints, clear and fresh.

"No, they moved me through the archives underground." With a mischievous smile, Amelia finished forming her snowball, her hands stinging with cold. She fell back a few paces, and a moment later, Larry yelped as the projectile struck him square in the back. By the time he turned around, she'd already prepared another snowball, a grin plastered on her face.

This time, Larry ducked and quickly made a snowball of his own. Before they knew it, the couple was in an all-out snowball fight, yelling and laughing as they pelted each other with snow. Amelia none too gracefully dodged one of Larry's missiles and lost her balance, falling onto her backside. Though she was giggling, Larry rushed to her aid and offered a hand to pull her up. Amelia accepted it, but instead pulled him close and kissed him.

Stunned but for a moment, Larry recovered and returned the kiss. The snow and chill air were forgotten, chased away by the warmth of her lips.

When they finally pulled away, Larry was surprised by Amelia's simple beauty. Snowflakes clung to her red curls and eyelashes, her nose and cheeks pink from the cold. She flashed a coy smile at him.

"Well, aren't you going to help me up, ace? My rump's all cold and wet now."

"Very sorry," he said with a grin and pulled her to her feet.

Amelia grabbed one last handful of snow and mushed it into Larry's hair with a laugh, then night guard and pilot returned to the trail, hand in hand.


	8. Realizations

**Heya, guys, just wanted to say thanks again for your reviews, they're much appreciated. And I'm very glad so many people are enjoying my story. :D Now, onward to chapter 8!  
**___________________________________________________________________

Once the couple delved deeper into the city of Washington, their trail grew cold. The footprints of Capone and his gang mingled with those of hundreds of citizens and tourists, and in most areas, the sidewalks were shoveled and salted. The streets were mostly deserted, the weather too chill for a nighttime stroll. Larry gave Amelia his gloves, shoving his own hands into his pockets.

"What could they want out here?" Larry muttered. "They know they have to be indoors by sunrise, don't they?"

"Yes, they know." Amelia zipped up her jacket as far as it would go and hugged herself. "Preferably, they'll return sooner than later."

A car approached them from behind and slowed, and Larry murmured, "Uh oh." It was a police car, and the pair paused as the window rolled down.

"Evening," the officer said as he stuck his head out. "Mind if I ask where you're headed?"

Larry inched closer to Amelia and nudged her with his elbow, as if to say _play along_. "Nowhere in particular, officer. Just out for a walk."

"Awfully late for a walk. It's nearly midnight."

Amelia turned on her charm and flashed the man a smile. "The snow is so pretty at night, though."

The officer looked the pilot up and down, checked something in his car, then opened the door and stepped out. "It is nice, ma'am, and I apologize, but I'm going to have to ask the two of you some questions."

Amelia shot Larry a worried look and was not reassured when he seemed just as concerned. She didn't remember doing anything remotely illegal lately, unless snowball fights on government property were a federal offense. She didn't think so, unless laws had changed very drastically since the 30s.

"Of course. What's up, officer, sir?" Larry said.

"Well, we've been getting some pretty strange reports for the last half hour," the policeman began. "Pairs of people dressed in old fashioned clothes, just walking about on a frigid night. Me, I chalk it up to some kind of goofy prank. But you two are the first I've seen for myself, or at least, _she _is."

The officer and Larry both looked to Amelia, and the woman stared back like a deer in the headlights. Then she realized they meant her attire, and she crossed her arms. "It's a fur-lined jacket, and it's quite warm, thank you."

"And the pants and boots? You look like a World War Two fighter pilot, ma'am."

Amelia grinned broadly, quite pleased. "You aren't far off, ace!"

Larry jabbed her in the side with his elbow and said quickly, "Uh, she's had a bit too much to drink, officer. Honestly, we were just walking it off. I would've said so to begin with, but I didn't want to embarrass my girlfriend."

The officer smiled and shook his head, climbing back into his cruiser. "I figured it was something like that. Just watch out for any weirdoes, all right? Stay safe, you two."

"Sure thing, sir," Larry said, and the policeman drove off down the street. The night guard turned to Amelia, fully expecting her to be annoyed for claiming she was drunk, but instead, she smiled at him with a smug little twinkle in her eye.

"You called me your girlfriend," she stated, entirely self-satisfied. "Are we steady now, Mister Daley?"

"That was a slip of the tongue. I meant to say sister."

Amelia punched him in the arm. "I believe that as much as I believe there was a second world war!"

"Uh, remind me to have a talk with you later," he said. "Anyways, what do you make of what the cop said? People in old fashioned clothes. That must be Capone."

"Positively. But why split off into pairs? Unless they mean to cover more ground."

"For what? What are they looking for?" Larry asked, mostly to himself. "Ugh, there's always a few bad apples. The _rest_ of the exhibits aren't out running free. ... I _hope_."

The couple walked quietly for a few minutes, until Amelia said abruptly, "You can't visit again, can you? Not if things turn out like this every time."

"Amelia," Larry began, but couldn't find anything to say. He wouldn't deceive her and say he would return someday once he regained the tablet. Even with the knowledge that she would never wake and therefore be unaware of his lie, he simply could not make her a promise he could not keep. "I'm sorry."

"Well. We'd best keep looking, hadn't we?" Amelia suggested with a half-hearted smile, and they continued down the damp, slushy sidewalk in silence.

~*~

Their search continued for another half an hour, Amelia's spirits declining with every step. She loved every minute of this adventure, but she realized it would soon draw to a close. They would get the tablet back, somehow. She did not doubt that. She felt like anything was possible. And after that, then what? Well, Mister Daley- Larry- would leave her again, return to New York to carry on with his life. And her life would end.

Oh certainly, it had already ended once, decades ago. That was past, and her memories of it were fuzzy. Amelia knew if she tried hard enough she could remember it clearly, but she didn't want to. The experience had been unpleasant, and that was all she needed to know.

So Amelia knew every moment she walked and talked and breathed and _lived_ now was a blessing, something few people were ever offered. She felt greedy for wanting more. But she did. She wanted Larry. She wanted the assurance that she would live every night. The thought of returning to that dismal basement, a fine layer of dust collecting on her treasured flight jacket and in her curls- it sickened her with dread. Forgotten and alone, her consciousness and memories slipping into inexistence for good...

Amelia shuddered, and it was not from the cold seeping through her jacket.

"Mister Daley," she said, and was promptly interrupted as two figures rounded the corner in front of them. Two figures in dark suits and fedoras.

Larry grabbed Amelia and pulled her into a small alley. They hunched against the wall, hoping the shadows would be enough to hide them.

"This is becoming alarmingly commonplace," Amelia muttered.

Larry held a finger to his lips, and the pair caught a scrap of conversation as Capone's thugs walked past.

"... newfangled alarm systems, but the bank Miss Parker found seemed decent."

"I dunno, I don't like the looks of this _technology _stuff. Maybe we oughta rob a library first and learn up on it."

"Oh, go soak your head, ya sissy."

Larry and Amelia let the gangsters saunter a fair distance away before they spoke, though Amelia was practically shaking with the effort it took to keep herself from speaking. Finally, when the men were out of earshot, she hissed, "_They want to rob a bank_!"

Larry winced and wiggled a finger around in his ear. "So I heard. What would they use the money for?"

"I don't think they _care_. They're gangsters, Larry, they're doing it for the fun of it!"

"We need to-- wait, did you just call me Larry?"

"A slip of the tongue, _Mister Daley_," she said with a straight face.

"Uh huh. As I was saying, we need to stop them. They stand a good chance of getting away with this. Who would think to arrest a bunch of museum figures?"

Amelia pondered this for a moment, then snapped her fingers and grabbed his arm. "The tablet! If we can get the tablet back, you had that note that lists all the funny little things it can do!"

She reached right into his jacket and rummaged around.

"There's this thing called personal space..." Larry protested.

She shot him a look that said _You can shush up right now because don't you think for a second I didn't feel your hands climbing the northern slopes of Mount Amelia when we were kissing earlier_, and somehow, Larry got the message.

With a cry of triumph, she produced the note and straightened it out. She perused it and tapped the paper. "This one, the one that lets you control all beings brought to life by the tablet. It says, _Be wary, for once under your command, they shall remain in this entranced state until the following sunrise, when they have slept and awoken once again in the presence of the tablet_." Amelia grinned at him. "Mister Daley, if you can activate this power, you can send Capone and his thugs back to storage with nary a struggle! That'll leave you safe to return home with the tablet before they ever have a chance to wake up again."

"Amelia," Larry said softly. "That includes you. As soon as I activate that, you'll be put in a trance as well."

Amelia stared at him for a moment, mouth slightly ajar. "I... I'm sorry, sometimes... I forget I'm not..."

Larry did not say anything, simply held her hand and squeezed it gently.

"I suppose we'll have to say our proper goodbyes first," she whispered.

"There's got to be another way to stop them," Larry said quietly, a sudden cloud hanging above the couple's heads. "That can be our last resort. Okay?"

Amelia nodded, but somehow she knew there was only one path, and she'd just taken the first step down its winding trail.


	9. Confrontation

**Sorry for the wait! As always, I hope it was worth it. ;)  
**____________________________________________________________________

Capone and his gang filtered back to the Smithsonian over the next couple hours, Larry and Amelia following close behind. The couple had gathered, from the snippets of conversation they managed to catch, that the mobsters were debriefing at the museum, where they would decide upon the best location to rob tomorrow night.

"That's when we strike," Larry said.

The couple was warm and cozy inside the Air and Space museum, snuggled up together on a bench. Larry slipped an arm around her waist, and Amelia smiled. The lights were dim, and the exhibits were not awake. The tablet had not entered this building. In the enveloping silence, Amelia was struck with idea.

"We don't know where they've hidden the tablet, right, ace?"

"No kidding."

"But tomorrow morning at sunset, only the building currently housing the tablet will come to life. Until they transport it elsewhere, at least." She tilted her head and gave him a meaningful look. "So if you were to get here early..."

Larry caught on and grinned. "Smart. I can just look for signs of life, and bingo, there's the tablet."

"It's not precise," Amelia admitted, "but it will narrow it down."

"Wait, though. Where will _you_ be? If you're not in the right building..."

"Hm, I take your meaning." She thought carefully, twirling a curl around her finger. "Before sunrise, I ought to find where Capone's setting up camp. Even if the tablet's in a different building with one of his thugs, they're sure to bring it to him tomorrow night, to wake him up. And voila! Your favorite pilot will be up and ready for a fight as well."

She flashed him that cocky grin, and Larry couldn't help planting a kiss on such inviting lips. Amelia raised a stern eyebrow at him, though he could still see a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Are all men in this century so presumptuous?"

"Should I have asked permission first?"

"No, I rather like an element of surprise," she purred and pulled him into another kiss.

~*~

The remaining nighttime hours fled too quickly. They were a blur to Larry, though a pleasant blur. He wished he could have savored them, slowed time so every second was a minute, every minute an hour. At some point, Amelia's jacket came off, despite the chill, and after that... well, Larry was not one to kiss and tell. Amelia, on the other hand, he was certain _would_. If she had anyone to tell it to. He didn't think she did, and that saddened him more than he would have thought. She was alone. Larry wondered if the exhibits felt lonely even when they weren't awake.

About an hour to sunrise, they agreed Amelia should find Capone and settle in nearby. The pilot insisted he find a hotel and get some sleep, she would be fine.

"Besides," she'd said, "those thugs still think we're a dinosaur's snack. Best keep it that way as long as possible, and you, Larry-"

She'd finally taken to calling him _Larry_, and he was delighted.

"-_you_ will attract more attention than if I go alone."

He gave in, promised he would find a hotel and rest. Instead, as the first sunbeams spilled across the horizon, Larry still stood in the middle of the Mall, watching, as if his presence ensured Amelia's safety until the sunrise was complete. Only then did he leave.

~*~

She caught a glimpse of him out the window. She knew he wouldn't leave the museum grounds until the sun rose, and quietly, she thanked him for it. Knowing he was out there, her night guard, made her feel safe. Cared for. Loved.

Did she dare use that word? Love. It sounded funny in her mind, so Amelia mouthed it to herself, finding the taste of it even stranger on her tongue. She'd had a husband in life, but it seemed a very long time ago. And it wasn't love so much as convenience. A female pilot in was controversy enough; remaining unmarried would have ostracized her further.

But Larry, he was different. _This_ was different.

She wished it would never end.

Finding Capone was simple enough. He returned to the archives underground, which had become his unofficial base of operations. Hiding herself was a bit tricky. Amelia wanted the mob boss within her sights while remaining out of _his_ sight. She settled for keeping him in earshot, taking up position a few aisles away. When she woke up, she would shadow Capone until Larry arrived, and they would stop the gangsters for good. Together.

At least, that was the plan.

~*~

When dusk fell the following day, Amelia awoke in the dim, dank archives with a sense of deja vu. Only this time, she knew Larry was coming.

The question was, where was the tablet and in whose hands was it? It was clearly nearby, but had it been in the archives the whole time, or had someone transported it here after the sun set? With a sudden pang of horror, Amelia realized Larry wouldn't be able to tell if the archives woke up. Not if he was outside, looking for museum inhabitants springing to life. If the tablet had been here all along, it would take Larry far more time than anticipated to locate her and Capone.

Suddenly, she heard voices approaching, rough and barking commands. Quite certain she did not like the sound of this, Amelia wildly searched for a hiding place that offered a good view. Finding none, she gave up and crawled under the steel shelving units, which offered enough space for her to lay flat on her stomach. All she could see were shoes and pant-cuffs, but assuming the owners couldn't see her, Amelia supposed it would have to do. She flicked away a dead spider with disdain and hoped her lovely jacket wouldn't be covered with dustbunnies.

A small troop of people walked past. Mostly men, but there were Bonnie's pointy heels, which meant Clyde was near as well. With a start, Amelia recognized a pair of sneakers and wished she was seeing things. She squeezed her eyes shut and blinked rapidly, but when she looked again, those familiar shoes were still there.

"Mister Daley," Capone said.

Amelia winced as her fears were confirmed.

"I was apparently misinformed of your death," the mobster continued. "Either you're very resilient, or I was lied to."

Bonnie's feet shuffled nervously, and Amelia smirked with satisfaction.

"Regardless, your presence is both unwanted and _irritating_. Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you where you stand."

"Because," Larry responded, and Amelia smiled at the confidence in his voice, "I know how to work that tablet, and you don't."

There was silence for a moment, then Capone barked, "Give me that thing!" One of his thugs stepped forward and presumably handed him the tablet. "What kind of tricks do you got up your sleeve, Daley?"

"My sleeve? None at all. But that little artifact? Well."

Capone stepped closer to Larry and growled, "You're trying my patience. If you're bluffing, you're a dead man, so I'd make with the party tricks, if I were you."

Amelia rubbed her nose. The dust was getting to her. As she felt the beginnings of a sneeze develop, she clamped a hand over her mouth and nose and held her breath. This worked for about three seconds, then the dustbunny armies led a final assault against her sinuses, and Amelia sneezed, little fluffs of dust stirring around her face.

The gangsters and Larry immediately went silent, and Amelia said something very unladylike under her breath.

"It came from under there!" someone said, and a moment later, two thugs were crouching on either side of her hiding place, staring at her.

She sighed. "Hello, fellas."

"Boss, it's that dame!" one of them said, and the other grabbed Amelia by the arm and dragged her out.

As the thug pulled her upright, she swept the dust from her jacket and noticed Capone shooting Bonnie and Clyde a dirty look. Amelia grinned. "Thought you got rid of us, did you?"

"I did," Capone said, then grabbed Amelia's hair and yanked her against him, holding a pistol against her head. "A mistake I'll be sure not to repeat."

Larry shouted and struggled against two thugs holding him back. "Let her go! It's me you want!"

"You're right, Daley, but this here is what I like to call leverage." Capone smiled panther-like at the night guard. "Start spouting what you know about the tablet, or I'll put your pretty filly to pasture."

Larry's face burned red with anger, but Amelia was surprisingly calm. She caught his eye and winked. _Don't worry, I've got a plan_. Larry knew that look in her eyes. He held her gaze for a moment, then said to Capone, "Fine. I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

"_Everything_. Hurry it up, we ain't--"

But Capone didn't get to finish his sentence, for Amelia abruptly kicked his shin hard, and the mob boss yelled in pain. Much to her joy, he dropped the tablet, and she scooped it up, hopping nimbly out of the way as he reached for her. Every gangster advanced on her, leaving Larry unattended and forgotten. Amelia flashed him that grin, that wonderfully confident, everything's-going-to-come-up-roses grin, and flung the tablet at him like a very precious gold frisbee.

As Larry caught it and every gangster head swung towards him, Amelia said, "You know what to do, ace!"

"Amelia!"

"_Do it_!"

She smiled lovingly at him, and even separated by a gang of angry mobsters, Larry could see the glint of tears in her eyes. Not wasting another moment, he twisted several panels on the tablet and completed the combination by pressing the middle square. In an instant, everyone froze. Everyone, at least, but him. The gangsters stopped in their tracks, arms hanging limply at their sides, their eyes vacant. Behind him, he saw Amelia, that same empty stare on her face, as if in a waking sleep.

Larry slipped past the immobile gangsters, giving Capone a vengeful shove, and approached Amelia. "Amelia?" he said gently, but she did not respond. Her blue eyes looked through him, and though her chest rose and fell as she breathed, her spirit was not there. Larry softly touched her cheek and turned away.

"You... criminals. Gangsters. Whatever you are," he said to the assembled outlaws. "Go back where you came from, and stay there."

Obediently, Capone and his gang separated, some returning to their exhibits in the museum proper, others climbing back into their storage spaces within the archives. To Amelia, he said, "Follow me," and led her to a quiet corner of storage. Tomorrow, if the tablet remained at the Smithsonian, she would return to her usual spunky self. But he would be long gone, the tablet safe with its Egyptian king in New York.

So he spent the night there and held Amelia's hand until the sun rose.  
_______________________________________________________________

**You don't think I'd end it like THAT, do you? Stay tuned next week for the exciting conclusion of Another Night in the Smithsonian! :D**


	10. A Beginning in an Ending

**Well, I just couldn't make you guys wait til next week to see how everything turns out. :P Especially since it's such a short ending. So here it is!  
**________________________________________________________________

Amelia opened her eyes, which was a surprise in and of itself.

The greater surprise was her surroundings, and she was rocked with a sense of disorientation. Last she remembered, she was in the Smithsonian's basement storage, a cold, dimly lit place that made her feel very hopeless. Amelia recalled Capone and Larry and the tablet, and then a sudden nothingness.

But now, she was somewhere new. Somewhere brightly lit, with lovely stained glass windows and marble floors, arches and vaulted ceilings. Slowly, Amelia realized she was in a museum, but it was not a museum she recognized. Not from indoors, at least.

Behind her, someone cleared their throat.

Amelia spun around, confused and awed all at once. Upon seeing who was behind her, she covered her mouth with her hand, and her vision blurred a little.

"_Larry_!"

A big goofy grin was plastered across his face, and he held his arms out. Amelia did not hesitate to run at him and hug him tight, burying her face in his shoulder.

"How?" she asked. "Where are we?"

"The Museum of Natural History," he replied, then added for clarification, "New York."

Amelia pulled away and stared at him for a moment. "You got me out of the Smithsonian?"

"I had to pull a few strings and convince Mister McPhee that we could use more female exhibits here. He knows a few people in Washington, you see..."

She laughed and hugged him again, and seeing her joy, Larry held her close and closed his eyes, happy to have her back. Life just wasn't the same without that smile and giggle. He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head.

"Welcome to your new home, Amelia."

"I'm here for good?" she asked, astonished. "Forever?"

"Forever," he promised.

"Larry, you can't believe how happy I am, that you would do this for me."

His ears turned bright pink, and he shuffled his feet a little. He wasn't quite sure how to say this, nor did he know what may come of it, only that it felt right and needed to be said. "It's nothing less than what the woman I love deserves."

Amelia stared at him, her mouth open like she had something to say but couldn't quite think of it. A tear spilled down her cheek and she quickly swiped it away and took a deep breath. "I love you too, ace."

Larry beamed, looking for all the world like a happy puppy, and planted a kiss on her lips.

"So," he said, "How would you like to meet your new roommates?"

"I'd be positively tickled!"

Larry took Amelia's hand, and the two of them set off to explore her new stomping grounds, assured in the knowledge they would be together every night, never separated again.  
___________________________________________________________

**And that wraps it up! I hope everyone enjoyed my first story here on . All your reviews and encouragement certainly helped keep me going. I might do a follow-up to this story later, exploring what Larry and Amelia's life is like together in New York. For now, though, I need a break. ;)** **I'll still be around, reading everyone else's stories, so keep writing, and thanks again!**


End file.
